


Free Falling

by suhcelia



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura fails her vibe check, Allura is kinda racist, Angst, BAMF Keith (Voltron), BAMF Lance (Voltron), Based sometime after the Trials of Marmora, Blood and Injury, Could be platonic, Desert Planet, Fantastic Racism, Galra Keith (Voltron), Hiding an injury, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt Lance (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith (Voltron) Whump, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, Klance if you want, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) Whump, Missions Gone Wrong, More tags to be added, Near Death Experiences, Protective Keith (Voltron), Protective Lance (Voltron), Whump, art in chapter 2, lots of blood, mentions of other paldins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 13:24:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20621744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suhcelia/pseuds/suhcelia
Summary: “You have six varga to locate the supplies and report your location for pick up. There is no life on the planet’s surface, only non-deadly sentries, and it is considerably humid, so you may leave your armor in your lions.” Allura’s voice reported, “Pidge is sending you the location now, don’t be seen and don’t be reckless. Oh and, don’t forget your bayards.”--or, Lance and Keith are on a deserted planet without their supplies and Keith still isn't recovered from the Marmoran Trials, both physically and mentally.EDIT 12/18/19: Art by me now in Chapter 2!!! Check it out!!!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi its 2am and i had this idea pop into my head - sorry if its messy
> 
> **THIS IS NOT BETA-READ YET!!** Once I finish it, I will go back and polish :D

“You have six varga to locate the supplies and report your location for pick up. There is no life on the planet’s surface, only non-deadly sentries, and it is considerably humid, so you may leave your armor in your lions.” Allura’s voice reported, “Pidge is sending you the location now, don’t be seen and don’t be reckless. Oh and, don’t forget your bayards.”

——————

It was the first mission Keith was cleared, by himself of course, to go on after his agonizingly long recovery from the Trials of Marmora and he’d honestly been kinda excited. He volunteered, in fact.

At the briefing of the mission, Allura began describing almost of the exact same conditions and climate as a desert on Earth. The familiarity was welcomed as he had been so... frazzled after the trials. The castle had felt so cold since his lineage was announced and even though Keith had never felt particularly at home in the castle, every time Allura’s gaze fell on him, even for a split second, he felt like he needed to drop everything and get out of there. And now, thank god, that his shoulder had finally healed, he was itching to get out. 

Lance was not as eager. In fact, he was quite a bit peeved. Sure he’d volunteered, but that was before the briefing, and before he knew he wouldn’t be going alone. If he had known he’d be facing the flaming sands of hell with no one else but Keith, he would’ve done some serious reconsidering. 

But not only would he but stuck on a desert planet with Keith, he would have no lions, and an unavoidable truth that he was going to sweat out of his mind.

——————

Keith had volunteered for this mission because, among other reasons, he thought he was used to heat. He lived in the desert for years and was comfortable on the hottest of days, but this kind of heat was nothing like home. This kind of heat was thick and suffocating, a heaviness that shoved itself down on his head and shoulders with such a persistence, that he felt he was being crushed. Every inhale and provided no relief upon exhale. Sweat drops rode down his strains of hair like melting icicles, even the usually breathable bodysuit stuck to every surface it could.

Sweat had lost its intended purpose of cooling and had quickly turned to a persistent waterfall of hot soup pouring down his back.

Finally, the monotony of rolling hills of sand broke to a sight has never seen in the desert at home.

A massive ravine, one stretching from one horizon to the next, one that they were comically unprepared to deal with. Keith pinched the bridge of his nose, both out of frustration and to sooth the growing headache behind his eyes.

Lance bodily sighed at the sight and crouched down to dissipate the dizziness that had persisted every time they stopped walking. 

He took a swig of a water pouch from his belt, coughed, and cleared his throat.

“Hey… is that-?” He rasped, standing quickly and elbowing Keith in the ribs. 

Keith, not in the mood for this shit, was about to elbow him back when he finally saw what he was talking about. A small bridge in the distance, one that looked straight out of a Wile E Coyote cartoon. 

If Lance could give one word to describe it, he would say ‘rickety-as-all-hell’.

The ‘ropes’ that interlocked all the footbridge’s planks was made from grayish vines, vines that looked thoroughly baked by the sun and laughably fragile for their intended purpose. 

And there was no guard-railing, only the footpath. 

Lance walked carefully up to the edge of the ravine, and saw the surprising and bittersweet scene of a rushing, refreshing looking river. He would’ve jumped there and then if it meant relief from this heat, f it weren’t so far down. He guessed the bridge was at least eight stories up, and there was no sign of a naturally occurring way to make their way down the steep cliff side without spending energy that neither of them had to spare.

Keith closed his eyes and went through every scenario he could think of. Jet packs were out of the question obviously, the ropes they left on the shuttle weren’t nearly long enough for them to make a safe descent (and there was no time to walk all the way back), and they were already exhausted from the trek.

They would _have_ to use the bridge.


	2. Hold On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rickety bridge? Ya'll thought that was a good idea?

Keith looked up at Lance, and Lance, seeing that look in his eye, furiously shook his head.

“No no no no!” He began, “There’s gotta be another way that doesn’t involve-,” Lance spastically flailed his arms in the bridge’s direction, “-some Indiana Jones shit!”

“Lance Allura is picking us up in,” He looked down to check his wrist console, “only three and a half varga from now. If you’re fine with showing up empty handed, fine, but thats where we differ.”

He started walking towards the bridge.

Lance huffed loudly behind him. He cupped his face in his hands and slapped his cheeks. No way was he going to let Keith just take over this mission.

“Woah, slow your roll, Mullet.” Lance shuffled in front of him, effectively blocking his way with his bigger frame. “I’ll be going first, thank you.”

“I- what? What are you even- you just said-”

“Your little speech was just so inspiring,” Lance said, placing a hand over his heart, “that I have decided to lead the charge.”

“That doesn’t even make sense…” Keith mumbled, more under his breath.

Lance spun on his heel and walked up to the first panel of the bridge. He tentatively put one foot on it, even his minimal pressure making the wood screech like a wounded bird.

“I’m getting National Treasure vibes…” Lance mumbled, “Hey Keith do you remember those Nick Ca-”

“We have to be careful about this Lance. Can you, please, focus?”

“Jeez wow okay. Not a Nick Cage fan, noted.”

Lance took slow, even steps. He carefully measured the weight he placed on every plank and if one screamed too loudly, he noted it both mentally, and aloud to Keith before stepping even more cautiously over to the next plank.

He could hear all of Keith’s movements behind him, and he was annoyed at how silent and graceful his steps were compared to his. He chalked it up to their different weights.

Luckily the bridge’s ropes were taught, so they didn’t wobble side to side as much as it bobbed up and down, so keeping balance was fairly easy.

About half way across, Lance had to hurdle two planks instead of one. His long legs easily stretched over and on to the safe plank. The wood squeaked, but held strong and he twisted to watch Keith make the same moves, albeit more balletic.

Keith’s brow was drawn in concentration, and in that moment, his eyes were locked on, not Lance’s movements, but rather the rushing water below. He looked…nervous, but his movements were still refined and consistent. He hated how perfect his movements were. He hated how easy he made the task look despite his obvious nerves.

Lance grunted with frustration under his breath and stepped, without thinking.

_Fuck_

The next plank only gave a millisecond of warning before it gave way under his leading foot, his chin clipping the plank in front of him and his hands reaching out for something, anything, to catch. His mind sprinted in those few seconds, it went to his family, his home, his mama. He couldn’t help but yelp as he felt himself start to free fall.

But fortunately, the something/anything reached him instead, as his body stopped with a painful as his descent was interrupted. His shoulder screamed briefly, but adrenaline made him feel elated.

He wasn’t falling.  
He wasn’t falling.  
He wasn’t falling!

Lance’s legs dangled freely as he looked down at the raging water below him, and he felt a laugh bubble up his throat. This stupid bridge wasn’t going to kill him after all, but when he looked up to thank Keith, his elation disappeared in an instant.

[[Art for this scene!!!]](https://csealia.tumblr.com/post/189740023816/ive-got-you-scene-from-my-fic-free-falling)

Keith had fallen to his knees in that millisecond and was wedged against the planks, his head hanging over the edge and his free hand holding onto the plank behind him. His legs kicked momentarily until his toes wormed their way in between two planks for even more leverage.

His face wasn’t contorted in determination, like Lance expected, but pain. A face Lance had never seen on Keith before.

Within seconds, warm droplets fell heavily onto Lance’s face and he saw why Keith was in pain. His shoulder wound had ripped open, and was bleeding freely, right through his fly suit.

“Keith you’re-” He croaked, and he was surprised at the fear in his voice.

Keith didn’t hear him over his pounding heart beat anyway. He felt his eyes well and his teeth grind in protest of such sudden and unexpected _agony_. The pain was disorienting, black dots swimming at the corners of his vision as he looked down at Lance. He didn’t even feel the blood running down his arm, only the white, hot pain that pulled his entire arm. He tried to pull him up, just high enough for him to grab on, but when his shoulder popped with a sickeningly loud crack, a strangled gasp forced its way up his throat. His free hand instinctively rushed to help the struggling one, leaving the leveraging only to his toes wrenched in between the boards.

Lance felt the drops quicken as Keith struggled, hitting his face and running down Keith’s arm onto his. But Keith’s grasp didn’t lessen, not even a little bit.

Now holding onto Lance’s arm with both hands, to lance’s amazement, he began to lift him up. His biceps shook violently as he began to crunch, but he was making headway. With his arm weighing heavily with blood, plank was just within Lance’s grasp. Keith slowly was able to rise to his knees as he pulled, toes still locked. He then was able to lift with his back, his veins visibly popping out of his neck and forehead.

Lance finally caught the plank and was able to help Keith pull him the rest of the way up, as Keith shuffled backwards to distribute their weight over multiple planks rather than a few.

They were both shaking.

Lance’s shoulders shuttered as he tried to control his breathing. He looked up from his hands and couldn’t help but breath a sigh of relief. He wanted to kiss the ground and hug Keith. He wanted _off_.

Keith huffed violently, his hand clutching his wound and his shoulder obviously popped out if its socket. His entire frame shook with adrenaline, and his heart was still pounding uncontrollably loud in his ears. His brow was coated in a thick sheen of sweat and his breath hitched as his fingers wandered up to his injury to assess the damage.

“Th-” Lance heaved, “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Keith said, his voice surprisingly controlled compared to his body’s condition.

“I thi-think Allura would forgive us if we didn’t go the rest of the way…”

Another surprise, Keith nodded.

“Yeah. Lets get off this thing.”

Lance slowly stood up, hands hovering over Keith as he did too, like he wanted to help but didn’t know how.

Keith stood up without too much of a struggle, and turned back, but his steps weren’t nearly as measured and nimble, in fact they were sluggish and unsure.

“We’re almost there.” Lance offered, trying to be comforting.

Keith gave a jerky nod as he continued.

Keith’s was fighting his own body, a battle very familiar to him but still exhausting nonetheless. His eyes drooped closed every time his mind shifted from focus, and his head felt heavy. The pain throbbed stubbornly, pulling at his attention every chance it got. It was overwhelming.

Lance watched him carefully, ready to stabilize him if need be, his hands out and ready to grab. But, admittedly, he didn’t expect him to completely _fall over_.

Keith’s feet tripped over each other, his knees quickly buckling to add insult to injury. And he fell over, fell _over_.

Keith fell over the side of the bridge.

And without thinking once again, Lance jumped after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this is a quick mind dump so I WILL be doing edits as more chapters come out.


	3. A Flash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance knew he had to return the favor.

Keith didn’t even know he’d stopped walking, let alone had fallen off the bridge. His mind had glitched, stuttered, and he blacked out. He didn’t feel the free fall, he didn’t feel his stomach drop and he didn’t feel the wind whiz past him. 

Lance felt all of those things.

Keith was falling like a brick, so Lance dove, like a pointed pencil, reaching out to meet him in the few mili-seconds he had to act. He moved in a blink, his body acting on its own. 

He grabbed Keith’s arm, the bad one Lance noted too late, but then cursed when Keith didn’t even flinch. He flipped himself over, now facing up, and locked his hands behind Keiths back and his ankles around Keith’s legs. He breathed deep, noting the tickle of Keith’s hair against his cheek, preparing for the shock that he would hopefully be able to take. 

Everything happened too fast. All he knew was he was going to die. No mistaking it this time - there was no one to catch him this time - he was absolutely, unavoidably, dead.

Without a moment to spare and much, much quicker than he’d mentally prepared for, the water was nice enough to come to meet them.

And _dios_, it felt like death.

He felt his back hit the water first, the unforgiving surface clapping against his spine like he was dropped on freshly laid cement. When his head hit, and his vision flashed white. All at once he felt like his brain was too big for his skull, his heartbeat so hard he thought he was vibrating. His eyes were open, he knew they were because he blinked as the water stung his eyes, but he couldn’t see. All he saw was pure white.

Against the few thoughts that he could form, he felt his limbs unlock around Keith, and the pressure against his chest lifted as he sank like a rock. He assumed he was sinking, he felt the pressure on his head only intensify as the water got colder and colder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> College sucks and I've been incredibly busy but I'm working on this fic whenever I can! Take this mini-chapter in the meantime.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith's turn to panic and Lance's little reveal :D

When Keith pried himself out of unconsciousness, he was wrapped in cold. The frigid liquid that sped past him cradled his heavy head and soothed his aching shoulder. He was almost comfortable, welcoming the break from the heat and the blinding pain. It was almost peaceful. But when his lungs began to fill with water, all of the pain came back to him at once. His eyes burst open and burned when liquid flushed them. His hands rushed up to his nose and mouth, in a half-baked effort to stop the water drowning him. Then, as the light above him made him flinch and, finally, his thoughts caught up with the situation and he paddled, lopsidedly, towards the surface.

He practically flew out of the water, the panic making his sore shoulder an afterthought as he swam with all his strength. He hacked up the cold water, his waterlogged bangs obscuring his vision. He dug deep into the rapids, frantically clawing at the resistant walls of the canyon, trying to stop himself from going too far downstream. His gloves prevented him from getting a good grip on the slippery walls, and with the pain slowly leaking back into his arm, he knew he needed to try another way. 

So he relied heavily on his legs, using his good arm to grab at any overhang he could find and his legs to support. But every temporary relief soon had him slipping back into the water. The ravine was deceivingly deep, and his legs flailed to find traction as the current carried him further away from the bridge above to no avail.

_Lance_

He chest tightened as he swirled around frantically, looking for any sign of him. His shoulder protested as he whirled this way and that, but adrenaline was pumping more and more every second he didn’t see him.

He felt for his bayard. He could stab the wall, assuming he had enough strength, and stop himself in place while he looked for—

his heart plummeted when he felt his bayard was gone. 

The dread further bubbled in the back of his throat. But luckily, he quickly unsheathed his mother’s knife and sank it as deep as he could muster into the clay-like sides. He pulled himself as far out of the rapids as he could but the water still pulled determinately at him, making even his good shoulder scream in stress. 

He had almost opted for leaving his mother’s knife under his pillow, detesting the look that Allura had given him whenever he carried it into the mission briefings since the Trials. She looked… disgusted, and even though Keith could take it, he just wanted it to stop. 

Then finally, he saw him.

They’d had the same idea it seemed, but where did he get….

Down stream, a long white and red sword was embedded into the water-licked sides of the ravine, a drenched hand clasped on it for dear life.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith spirals into some good 'ol self hate :D

His mind struggled to comprehend what he was seeing. 

Did Lance-  
When did-  
Was that his bayard…?

The sword, or maybe a broadsword?, was like nothing Keith had ever seen before, mainly red with accents of white, with an iridescent blue center. A distinct style that looked oddly Altean. 

**Focus** he meant to tell himself but basically yelled out loud. 

Lance was looked like he was practically glued to the bayard, his back facing the rapids but somehow still remaining held on. His broad shoulders were mostly out of the water and the persistent waves licked up his back and made his head loll from side to side with each impact.

Keith was almost done doing his long distance check up when he smelled something too familiar. A faint smell of copper. And he knew it wasn’t his shoulder. His check up sped up until he searched every inch he could see. 

And even from 30 feet way, Keith could see that Lance’s ears were bleeding. 

_Fuck_

Definite head trauma. Worse than a concussion, possible brain bleed?

Keith had to stop his mind from wondering again. His heart beat was quickly out-drumming the rapids. But a realization made his world go silent. 

This was his fault. 

Lance could have brain damage and it’s all because he couldn’t face Allura. 

Keith briefly felt fury flare in his chest. 

_This is her fault. _His ribs began to constrict. If Allura had just realized he was the same person he was before they knew his parentage…. his breath began to quicken out of his control…he would’ve taken the recommended time to heal. He wouldn’t have made Lance jump after him. If only…If she had just...

_No. _

Allura owed him nothing. After all, in her eyes, he was nothing but a galran parasite. She was entitled to hate him. And despite his rough exterior, he would’ve gotten restless. He would’ve reopened his shoulder on the training deck or some other mission. He knew that. And God forbid if his shoulder had affected his performance during a battle in Voltron… his whole team would be hurt.

This was bound to happen. 

This was no one’s fault but his own.

And he needed to fix it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance's senses slowly return but vertigo is a bitch and baby be confused and in pain. Keith takes action, but how?????

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again this fic is **not beta-read** YET, but once I finish it, I will tidy it all up :D

Even _trying_ to pry his eyes open winded him. 

His head felt like it was going to split in two, every little movement feeling like a hairline crack was slowly making its way around his skull. His back vehemently objected the new pressure that was against it, and he could literally feel the bruises blooming as the last of the soothing cold of the water left his body. 

As his senses started to get used to the new pain, he finally could start to feel other things, though he couldn’t move. He felt his feet swaying limply, his head uselessly craned forward and an ungodly amount of pressure under his arm pits. He was attached to something? He knew he wasn’t in danger, but couldn’t quite remember why. Was someone there with him? 

Then he started to feel a rhythm to the movements that sent shockwaves up his spine and throbbed in his skull. 

Pull, pull, break, pull, pull, break.   
Why was he being moved so much, why would someone be so rude?

With every ounce of his energy, he forced his eyes to open.

And regretted it instantaneously. 

The light was blinding, and made his migraine turn up from a 5 to a 12. He felt dizzy but grounded, like he knew he was standing but felt like he was falling all at the same time. His eyes jerked violently trying to adjust to the light while also trying to assess what was going on around him, as an unseen string seemed to pull him down. His stomach twisted turbulently, the sting of bile in the back of his throat just another addition to the list of pain that was overwhelming his every sense.

His hearing was bombarded with a singular tone, a never-ending monotony of pitch that was interrupted every so often by some sort of noise he couldn’t place. But the rhythm it had was rhythmic, expected, and reliable, so his mind decided on its own to focus on it. He fixated on it, almost forgetting the unbearable weight tugging at his underarms, the pounding of his temples and the unrelenting vertigo. 

The noise was almost animalistic, he realized. Whatever the thing was that was making it sounded feral and heavily winded, like a wolf that had just run a few marathons. 

Slowly the sensory overload began to diminish with every noise. It was a pattern he could keep up with, one that secured him to consciousness and sanity. But as other senses began to calm, others began to surface. 

He felt warmth dripping down his back and chest, and thankfully welcomed another sensation he could grab onto and try to ignore the pain. He was thankful for these tethers, but something in the back of his foggy mind told him something was wrong. Very wrong. He just couldn’t put his finger on it. 

Using the warmth and sounds made his other pains recede ever so slightly, and his open eyes finally started sending images to his brain. His mind swam trying to make sense of what he was seeing. And he felt his stomach recoil once again.

He was out of the water, that much he already knew, but somehow he was floating about 40 feet up. 

Slowly, he willed his eyes to look down at his chest.

Red streamed down his flying suite, the warm liquid mixing with the water that drenched with and seeping down his front. The warmth down his back told him it was happening back there too. He noted there was… a lot. He wracked his mind, trying to register a wound that maybe adrenaline wasn’t allowing him to feel, but his other pains told him adrenaline was long empty. He also finally registered the makeshift ropes wrapped under his armpits made out of a material unmistakably similar to his flying suite. 

The noise was starting to become familiar, something Lance knew he had heard before. Maybe when he was back home? Maybe when he was at the Garrison? Maybe when fighting in Voltron—

Voltron. He is on a mission for Voltron. 

Was on a mission? Who was with him, he knew he wasn’t alone. Why couldn’t he remember? He didn’t think his head could hurt any more, but as he willed his mind to think harder, the pain was almost blinding.

A deserted planet. Yeah. But why would… supplies! They needed supplies. They. How come he was so sure he wasn’t alone?!

Then as he was jostled upwards again, he felt the distinct tickle of long hair against his neck. 

He saw the jet black hair, and as he willed his neck to turn, he felt it against his cheek and nose. With nothing to warn his mind but a seizing of his chest, everything came flooding back to him. 

The bridge, the canyon, the fall, the impact and most importantly, Keith. 

The noise was clear now. It was him. 

_Keith_ was grunting like an animal. 

_Keith_ was bleeding all over him. 

And _Keith_ was the one who strapped Lance to himself like a backpack and was climbing his ass up the canyon wall.

The sudden rush of clarity caused him no relief however, as he was even more confused as to how this was possible. Keith was smaller than him, at least by a head. And don’t get him wrong, he knew he was strong, but he wouldn’t put climbing up a nearly completely vertical rock face with a whole other human on his back. This was completely impossible for a human. 

He was lucky Keith wasn’t fully human, then. 

Time went slow for Lance as his mind played catch up and coped with the encompassing pain, but to even to him Keith made it to the top within minutes. 

He couldn’t see how close they were at any time, but he felt Keith reach high, felt his back muscles stretch, and with a few more agonizing tugs, suddenly he was horizontal. 

Keith slid the straps that held Lance to him off of his shoulders as gently as he could, but his violently shaking hands made it a little unforgiving. But thankfully, now that he wasn’t moving every other second, the throbbing in Lance’s back and head finally started to dull. He felt like he could melt into the solid ground with how much relief his body released. 

Lance saw that Keith had ripped off both of his flying suites’ sleeves, and didn’t have an easy time of it as the scraps left were jagged and frayed, and there were cuts around his shoulders and underarms. He was on his stomach with his elbows holding him up, his throat violently heaving out breaths and his shoulder still bleeding sluggishly. His eyes were wide open, and Lance noticed how a sheen of yellow had slowly began to fade from his corneas. His teeth, specifically his canines, were sharpened to a point, and seeing as how much his lips were bleeding, he must’ve been biting them. His right hand hadn’t seemed to get the memo that they were done climbing yet, as it was still clenching his marmoran knife with snow white knuckles. His other hand was caked in the clay-like rock of the ravine but he could still see that his nails were broken and his fingertips were ripped open. 

They had only been on solid ground for maybe a minute and a puddle had already pooled at his elbow, his bare arm absolutely covered in both dry and fresh blood. 

Only then did he notice Keith had been looking at him. They locked eyes through Keith’s lattice of fallen black hair and all of the yellow melted from his eyes, his irises rounded out and his breath caught. 

Keith’s stabilizing arms fell out from under him and he fell over, and Lance, for the hundredth time, cursed his numb limbs. 

Although, a nap did sound very _ very _nice right about now.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ALLURA FAILS HER VIBE CHECK
> 
> \----
> 
> check out the end notes for how this fic fits into the voltron timeline in my head!

Lance fell out of the healing pod in possibly the most ungraceful way possible. He slid out of the cool air and fell hard on his heels, landing on fully unprepared legs. His limbs felt like jello, so even as he tried to catch himself, he crumbled like a leaf to the floor. His mind swam, playing the all too familiar game of catch up as he took in his surroundings. He was still in his flying suite, still stained front and back with dried, almost black blood. As he moved his hands under himself to push up, he could hear the suite crack as flecks of the dried blood fell onto the sterile floor. The smell was horrendous.

He managed to get himself up into a crouching position, using the pod he just tumbled out of as a brace as he tested his balance. The effects of the vertigo was echoing behind his eyes, and his vision twisted like he was in a washing machine. But he held himself up and clenched his eyes shut, willing his senses to calm down. 

Finally as his mind stopped spinning, he looked around the room. No sign of any of the other paladins or Coran or Allura, and with one look at his pod’s console, he was confused to see his cryogenic slumber was not finished yet. So why the hell was he out?

He caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye and he stilled, adrenaline spiking for the umpteenth time and he slowly panned over to the corner of the room. 

A stretcher had been rolled into the room, but it had been tucker into the very corner, almost behind the pods. He managed a few steps closer and tried to rub the fog from his eyes. 

His vision cleared in an instant. 

Keith was laid up in the stretcher. An oxygen mask pulled snug over his creased features. His legs were stirring, and his lips were parting, like he was having a bad dream. And honestly Lance thought he was having one too.

Why had no one put him in a pod?! He must’ve lost 3/4’s of his blood, half of which was staining Lance’s body for proof. Why the _hell_ wasn’t he in a pod?

He was also still in his flight suite, like Lance, but was covered in haphazardly applied bandages and gauze, and even from this far away Lance could see red blossoming under his shoulder. 

His face flushed with pure confusion, but was quickly replaced with a need to act. He pushed off his stabilizing grip on the pod and propelled his legs to obey him. 

Keith looked just as disheveled as when Lance last saw him, his face pale and streaked with blood and a sheen of sweat, his hair unkempt and matted in the back, his hands-

His hands.

His hands were bound to the bed sides with Altean handcuffs. 

For some reason his mind halted at that realization. The throbbing behind his eyes came back with a vengeance. He stopped dead in his tracks, but his mind kept walking, making his vision tunnel and his balance break. He felt his legs buckle, but two small, strong hands managed to heave him up before his knees suffered more trauma.

“It’s alright now Lance, you’re home. You’re safe.”

A soft voice, one like a concerned sister after her little brother fell and scrapped his knee. Lance had a hard time recalling this voice ever sounding so warm. 

“Allura?” Lance cringed at his rasp of a voice, but she just smiled sweetly at him. She laced her arm into his and supported most of his weight without so much as an out of rhythm breath. 

“Don’t push yourself too much, your condition was not… not great when you arrived and you may have some memory loss. I’m actually very surprised to see you out of the pod so soon…” she glanced over to the pod, and squinted trying to see the console, but refocused quickly with a shake of her head, “Can you remember what happened?”

Why was no one else here? Hunk and Pidge would never let him wake up alone and Shiro sure as shit would never let Keith suffer like this. Hell, where was Coran? His steady, trained hands would never have done as messy of a job patching Keith up. Had Allura tried to? Why wouldn’t she get Coran? 

Why was Allura acting like he was the only one rescued?

Allura noticed how Lance was searching wildly around the room and smiled as comfortingly as she could. 

“Don’t worry, I sent the other paladins on a recon mission and Coran is cleaning the teleduv.” She paused and reassuringly rubbed his back, “My hope is that, without fear of them judging you, you can tell me what we both know really happened.”

He didn’t hear her. His blood was rushing so loudly in his ears, he couldn’t even think. His every sense reeled with bewilderment over one thing; why was Keith _handcuffed_ to the fucking bed and not in a pod. His rage combined with his bafflement allowed only one thing to escape his lips.

“Why is Keith not healed yet?”

Lance felt the air in the room go icy as Allura’s demeanor changed as soon as Lance uttered his name. Her grip on his arm tightened for a split second, and though she was not looking at Lance, he saw her face was creased with revulsion.

“I knew he would act against us.” she hissed, voice just above a whisper, “Coran didn’t believe me, but I knew he was just waiting for a moment to betray us…”, she tried to regain her composure, but still her eyes betrayed her. There was a wildfire behind the sapphire blue, “Lance I’m so sorry I let you go on a mission alone with him.”

Lance’s temples throbbed mercilessly as emotions he’d never felt swirled together, seeking a way out. He stabilized himself and stared down at her, confusion, anger, sympathy and dismissiveness all bubbling through his voice.

“No! No, Allura you don’t-” 

Her eyes flew up to meet his, and her jaw tightened. She spoke through clenched teeth.

“Lance you don’t need to protect him anymore. I know he is the reason you fell off that bridge. I know why he did this to you,” she spat, eyes flicking to Keith with seething disgust, “its in his kinds’ nature.”

His entire body began to fill with a completely new kind of pressure and pain. Something more blinding than any injury he had been through, managed to consume every thought and reasoning. White hot anger seeped from every pore.

“**NO!**” Lance screamed, a sudden burst of energy propelling him out of Allura’s grasp, but he didn’t back down. He stood on his own, the numbness in his limbs melting away like when Keith had plucked him from the water. He saw Allura’s face flash with utter shock for a millisecond, genuinely confused as to why Lance has broken away from her with such force. 

Lance looked down on Allura for the first time. Sure, he had a solid two inches on the princess in height but this was the very first time he felt she was below him. In that moment of clarity, he didn’t see her as a princess, he didn’t see her as the leader of Voltron and he certainly didn’t see her as a friend.

His voice didn’t feel like his, it felt like something possessed him. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this unadulterated fury, or if he ever had at all.

“Keith saved me.”

His own cadence made his ears ring. Allura’s expression faltered and she tried to step back but Lance followed her.

“HE. SAVED. ME.”

His voice reverberated in the vacuous room, like a roar. Allura’s back slammed into the wall as Lance’s advances backed her into it. He leaned his neck down so he could be eye to eye with her as he held up two fingers in her face.

“_Twice_.”

Her face was unreadable. Tears welled in her eyes but he couldn’t place exactly what emotion triggered them. She opened her mouth but closed it, Lance didn’t give her a chance to spew anymore of her bullshit. 

“He is the same person who risked his life time, time again, going on missions you sent him on. He never wavered, never questioned, never gave you and semblance of a reason to not trust him and you think all of the sudden, what? He’s a fucking _animal_ that needs to be chained?!” He gestured wildly to Keith’s now unmoving body. Allura’s eyes flickered to him and her lip twitched. Lance stood up straight and tried to calm himself before he continued. 

“He may be half galra but he’s still the same reckless, hot headed, warrior that you cheered on in battle just a few weeks ago. He’s the same paladin that _your_ father’s lion chose to pilot her. She knew what —who— he was and she knew that he was much more than just half-galra. He is essential to the future of the universe and you…” Lance tried to stop his next thought but it was already on his tongue, “ you are acting as if he killed your father with his own hands.”

Allura tensed at that. Her fists tightened and her eyes averted, a tear fell down her cheek. Lance was panting, and his hands was clenched so tight he couldn’t feel it anymore. He knew he needed to catch his breath before he could finish his thought, which took several seconds of him staring Allura down. 

“If Voltron, defender of the universe, savior of _millions_ of lives and planets, creation of your own father, accepts Keith, what the quiznack gives you the right to act like **this**?”

There was silence between the two as Lance’s voice echoed. He stepped away from her and faced Keith. He looked so uncomfortable, his wrists reddened from the few times he had pulled on the cuffs in his sleep. Lance cringed at how starkly different he looked now compared to when he had carried him up that monstrous cliff. He looked so small now, like a kid.

He noted how, in fact, they all were kids, even Allura. 

But he knew Keith was stronger than all of them. 

“Now,” Lance huffed, not looking at her, “if you’re done, help me get _our_ teammate into a pod.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lance never mentions his fight with Allura to Keith, but Allura does hint to Lance's defense of him to Keith later when she apologizes for the dozenth time. I imagine the apology that Allura FINALLY gives Keith in season 2 episode 12 is **fully** prompted by further paladin intervention off screen. 
> 
> \-------------------
> 
> HEY HEY HEY thanks for reading!!! I will be **editing this entire fic** for a more smooth read in the future so look out for when that happens! And watch out for more art from me!! 
> 
> As a little treat I will be adding a little extra chapter later, showing what may've happened if Lance had been the one to catch Keith on the bridge, and how much different things could've gone :D


	8. Extra Bonus Angst :D

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an alternate reality where Keith is the one that falls first instead of Lance - written purely because I love that angst and can't help myself :D

His vision flashed white as hot agony hit him like a truck, a throaty yelp so loud but brief it made Keith's ears ring. The blood started gushing from his shoulder like a waterfall after that, the improperly healed wound opening the floodgates. The warm blood seeped down his arm, the red blooming in all directions as it reached the creases of his flight-suit. Sweat bloomed on his brow immediately, as pain and stubborn will fought for dominance. 

But Lance still gripped Keith’s wrist like a vice. 

Because Keith looked _terrified_.

Emotions unlike anything Lance had seen on Keith's face were creasing his usually lax features. And for a moment, just one tick, all Lance saw was his nephew's face, scared and absolutely begging not to be let go. But then he just saw Keith, the person he'd come to admire and see as family. The person that deserved to fucking live more than most people he'd met both in space and on Earth. 

But a second later and Keith's face was controlled, his jaw clenched and his brow twitching - and he looked up at Lance with a twisted kind of determination. He swallowed the lump in his throat, making damn sure his voice didn't crack. 

“Lance you have to let go.”

Lance was positive he’d heard him wrong. He would never- why would he even suggest-

“Nope. N-not happening Mullet.” He winced as his shoulder protested again, a fresh wave of warm leaking down his arm.

“Lance ther-there’s no reason two paladins need to be— be replaced.”

Replaced. **Replaced**.Does he think it would be that easy? _Oh we lost one let’s just find a replacement._There would be a hole where he left, a wound in all of them that would never heal. The team wouldn’t just move on...

“You need to-to stop acting,” Lance began, his voice going from a whisper to a shout in an instant, “like your life means any less than ours!”

Keith’s mouth twitched as he tried to control his next words.

“Tell Shiro I’m sorry I let him down... I’m not the leader he thought I was...”

Keith started to wiggle his fingers, the slippery blood not helping Lance in his effort to keep hold. 

“Keith- fucking _stop_-“

“And I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to make you feel small- I’m sorry for every time I made you feel less than, when in reality you’re what holds all of us together Lance...”

Keith managed a strained, but no less genuine smile. Hot tears welled over and dripped down his nose, dropping and tracing down Keith’s cheek.

“You’re one of the strongest people I know,” his voice shook, “and they need you.”

“SHUT UP YOU- THEY NEED YOU TOO!”

Keith’s eyes were reddening, but he kept his smile. 

“Take- take care of them for me.”

“Keith-“

He let go of his grip on Lance’s wrist entirely. Lance screamed as he tried desperately to hold on despite the blood, but he felt his hand slide into his.

“DON’T GIVE UP LIKE THIS KEITH- PLEASE!”

He felt Keith’s thumb slide out of his grasp, leaving him clutching to his fingers. His muscles shook violently but he held on. He held on for as long as he could.

Which was only a few extra seconds, every one of which Keith used to trace every line of Lance’s face. He wanted him to be the last thing he thought about. 

He didn't hear Lance anymore, he didn't feel the muscles in his shoulder screaming, and he didn't even feel the hot sun anymore. 

Keith closed his eyes. 

And let fingers slipped out of Lance's grasp.

Lance wished he’d looked away, but he couldn’t. He watched as his form got smaller and smaller and then vanished under the rapids after an echoing and deafening splash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo if Lance survived it, Keith prob did too >:DDDDD

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a **comment** telling me what you think! Kudos are AMAZING but comments help me improve both my writing and the story!
> 
> If you're liking where this story is going but are in dire need of more klangst while you wait for the next update, consider checking out my other fics **Deep Blue Depths** and **Hitting Rock Bottom**.
> 
> EDIT 12/18/19: Art by me now in Chapter 2!!! Check it out!!!


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